Unknown, Comets from the Augsburg Book of Miraculous Signs, 1552
Later published as The Book of Miracles
Wikimedia
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

oozey mess
h
occasionally subtle
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Peter Solarz
we're not kids anymore.

izzy's playlists!

tannertan36

Discoholic 🪩
AnasAbdin
todays bird
$LAYYYTER

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Product Placement
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Three Goblin Art

Love Begins

Origami Around
Sade Olutola
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@terrorbull
Unknown, Comets from the Augsburg Book of Miraculous Signs, 1552
Later published as The Book of Miracles
Wikimedia
great now I gotta be responsible for this lollipop
out: giving a shit about someone who mercilessly treated me like garbage for seven years and never displayed a whit of remorse about it
in: Brookland, optimistic milestones, Cadbury creme eggs, jogging
five minutes ago: Oedipal complexes
still there: Virgil’s cream soda
as an update
out: wasted days, spilled milk, angst
in: Southern recipes (and the inexplicable use of bourbon in everything), middle fingers always, mandated interest in religion, woe
five minutes ago: anxiety attack(s)
still there: the way we make fun of Spot's meow
(photo: szajba)
(via yo should I dump this asshole)
this is actually gr8 advice, tried n true
voicemail
hey i i um i’m calling because i missed i mean i have a missed call? from earlier? from your area code and i thought maybe it was you you know because it was the same area code but ah it’s probably it probably was just a wrong number um haha i guess that’s oh the tulips! came back up in the garden, we were worried, remember? that they wouldn’t come back after the frost last winter they did though and i know i know how much you like them they look really nice really i uh i hope you’re doing all right and you know i      also also wanted to say about how last winter i’m really sorry about how we left that and i wanted to tell you so many times since then i really beep
~problematic~
Fifteen ways to stay alive 1. Offer the wolves your arm only from the elbow down. Leave tourniquet space. Do not offer them your calves. Do not offer them your side. Do not let them near your femoral artery, your jugular. Give them only your arm. 2. Wear chapstick when kissing the bomb. 3. Pretend you don’t know English. 4. Pretend you never met her. 5. Offer the bomb to the wolves. Offer the wolves to the zombies. 6. Only insert a clean knife into your chest. Rusty ones will cause tetanus. Or infection. 7. Don’t inhale. 8. Realize that this love was not your trainwreck, was not the truck that flattened you, was not your Waterloo, did not cause massive hemorrhaging from a rusty knife. That love is still to come. 9. Use a rusty knife to cut through most of the noose in a strategic place so that it breaks when your weight is on it. 10. Practice desperate pleas for attention, louder calls for help. Learn them in English, French, Spanish: May Day, Aidez-Moi, Ayúdame. 11. Don’t kiss trainwrecks. Don’t kiss knives. Don’t kiss. 12. Pretend you made up the zombies, and only superheroes exist. 13. Pretend there is no kryptonite. 14. Pretend there was no love so sweet that you would have died for it, pretend that it does not belong to someone else now, pretend like your heart depends on it because it does. Pretend there is no wreck — you watched the train go by and felt the air brush your face and that was it. Another train passing. You do not need trains. You can fly. You are a superhero. And there is no kryptonite. 15. Forget her name.
Daphne Gottlieb
trolling as self-care
not wearing makeup for the past five days because you know you'll just cry it off as self-care
spending way too much unnecessary money at Ikea as self-care
pursuing romantic relationships with people for whom you have no feelings as self-care
projecting father issues onto your boss as self-care
driving your car too much as self-care
bouncing checks as self-care
overworking as self-care
giving attitude to your superiors as self-care
insubordination as self-care
drinking cans of soda with 50 grams of sugar in it as self-care
flipping off cop cars as self-care
flipping off streets in Herndon as self-care
buying lingerie that you (will) never wear as self-care
???
to dress well, as clothing and fashion, are the only things which we — the kids — being utterly disenfranchised, have any control over.
Preach it, Cometbus.
YOU GUYS I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE CAN’T MAKE BETTER CHOICES
I had (am having) a major stress-out about the fact that the goddamn grow light for my spinach project was delivered in a defective state, so now I have to return it (assuming that they'll take it back, what with me throwing away the receipt during my massive room-clean last week, which I thought was an indication of better headspaces and less depression, which, whatever, in protest now I just seem to be cluttering up my floors again with empty pints of ice cream and cardboard box skeletons and dirty dishes, so, wonderful) and wait another 1-2 weeks to get a hopefully (functional) one, but then I am going to Seattle for five days, and I am having one of those oh my god I am going to fail this class and then I won't even be able to text my mother everyday after class complaining about how much I resent yet am attracted to my goobery professor and you don't know what you've got till it's gone wah wah attacks that is probably going to give me a stress aneurysm in the mean time, while I am failing the class.
Anyway, while my brain was falling apart, I was listening to a lot of crack rock steady bands, because, whatever. I started watching Leftover Crack-related YouTube videos while trying to figure out how the fuck to perform an ANOVA test, because, remember, I'm gonna fail that class (I did sort of finally figure it out, for the record) in so many ways (reminder to self: listen to "In So Many Ways" by former high school friend's band -- it's a really good song). News to report:
1. I am a big fan of Ezra Crack. Like, huge. As I have revealed many times, dude was the first punk quasi-celebrity whom I ever spoke to, and that was a really good choice of mine, because he was down-to-earth and we bonded over our "weird names" (his words) and, ugh (good ugh), that's an uncharacteristically decent memory that I have of the Black Cat. (I think Lucky Strano was the second punk quasi-celebrity I spoke to. Appropriately and all.) Like, Stza? Fuck that guy; he was a total d-bag during that whole goddamn show.
1a. I feel bad that in that post I wrote like two weeks ago (linked above), I flippantly made one of those hackneyed "ba ha Leftover Crack is full of a bunch of deadbeat junkies" remarks, wondering aloud if Ezra is still alive. Well, Graybird, he is, and he is actually doing quite well. Today I eventually got around to reading this rad interview that Ezra did very recently and which I am now going to dissect.
2. Like, you don't know how invested I am in how great and healthy and happy he seems, versus the public mess that he (and all of Leftover Crack) was in the past. Why am I so invested in this? Am I projecting some hopeless life lesson about self-actualization and change onto poor ol' Ezra? Probably.
Seriously, read this shit and then contrast with Stza, the whiny fucked-up creep of a manchild who is pretty much a known rapist and abuser of women. Here is my list of Stza tidbits: remember when Stza wrote "Gay Rude Boys Unite" calling Operation Ivy homophobes because he was mad at Tim Armstrong? (That's the take-away I got from this basically incoherent rant that he went on about how Tim Armstrong didn't want Stza's disgusting self in his house, which, I wouldn't either, and Tim Armstrong wanted to sign Buju Banton to Hellcat, which I won't comment on, but still, way to be one of those SJWs who exploits some shitty thing someone does and then whines to everyone about how "problematic" anyone within eight degrees of that first person is, mostly just because you're mad about some personal slight, in this case someone not wanting your grody abusive ass in their house.) Remember when Stza stabbed Jack Terricloth? Is Stza still romantically involved with Semra? I hope not; I am very protective of my World/Inferno members, past and present (mostly past). Remember when that one dickhead who abused like four of my friends and worships Stza unilaterally invited Star Fucking Hipsters to "party" at my old house in Boston even though he didn't even fucking live there? Remember how much I hated that place?
My real hope in writing this is that in the spirit of every time I write a public critique about some semi-famous punk dude's behavior, I get a message in my inbox pretty soon after from that person telling me how I'm wrong. How fun would it be to be chastised by Stza?
Anyway, back to Ezra. Forgive the pretentious "musician" undertones of the interview (it was giving off some serious Eddie Van Halen vibes to me, which was a bit of a bummer), but, whatever, I am a big fan of grown-ups. Look at this thing he said about Leftover Crack and tell me that he wasn't talking about Stza, because who else is that odious a person to provoke words like "reproachful" to describe them:
There are some aspects of the other band members’ personalities that I find so reproachful that I can’t believe I’m allowing it to go on, or that I’m contributing to it just by being a part. Sometime it borders on a rapacious behavior that’s so selfish that it goes against my very core, and I can only wonder how I ended up knowing these people. It really does reach moments and proportions that defy belief and become very serious issues. It’s not a lie or a myth that we come to odds. [...] We’re not talking about simple disagreements here and there, we’re talking physical fights and a conflict of ideas so deep and ingrained that it hurts my very soul at times to acquiesce, and sometimes I despise myself for going along with it.
I kind of get the vibe that Stza is one of those jerks that you've outgrown because you're actually a decent person and one day you're just like, why the fuck do I still talk to this person? We've all been there.
Onto more important matters, Ezra stopped doing heroin. Ezra stopped doing heroin. Dude, bro, serious business. Ezra on not being a heroin addict anymore:
I wouldn’t wish heroin on even my worst of enemies. It is actually literally walking thru hell itself. [...] For now let’s just say that if you’re trying to emulate your hero, emulate the good characteristics of that person, not the negative self destructive parts. Do this and you’ll easily eclipse their accomplishments. Most likely they’ll tell you that dope only held them back from being successful and turned life into a sort of living hell. Take my word for it. I should know. I did my share and then I did [Keith] Richards’ share after that. Unfortunately due to the nature of the addict, the type of person most likely to become an addict is least likely to be listening to me now. As an addendum let me say that I’m not an anti-drug crusader. Just ’cuz i can’t handle my drugs or alcohol doesn’t mean that the rest of the world should follow my instruction and abstain. That would be very hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it? Abstinence is just what’s right for me.
Again, you have no idea how invested I am in this man's livelihood. Like, not in that dead-end codependent way, because I was always kind of flippant about the whole Leftover Crack junkie thing, which I feel bad about, but it just warms my heart to see someone talking and living like this, like, dude stopped doing drugs. Like, dude who I seriously, genuinely thought was going to die any day of a heroin overdose, stopped doing drugs. This is epic. I wish him the very best.
[...] It’s funny actually, I went to cop some drugs a long while back during a brief relapse period, and as it turned out the dealer was a huge M-Glory fan. [...] Though it wasn’t said, it was hinted at that he’d gotten strung out while listening to LOC. And I’m guessing he cleaned up when he started listening to M-Glory. At least I really would like to think that is how the story ends.
Cheers for the Leftover Crack vs. Morning Glory quasi-allegory you threw in there, Ezra, as a lesson on drugs. I used to write philosophical e-mails to people about the merits of Morning Glory vs. Leftover Crack; like, I remember I wrote one to Evan Greer when I was sixteen, something along the lines of, "Leftover Crack is so nihilistic and hilariously awful, and Morning Glory is so much more polished and intelligent and nuanced, and why the fuck did my mother let me go to a Leftover Crack show but not to a Max Levine Ensemble show" (I was sixteen) (my ultra-conservative, Christian, unsupportive-in-every-way father took me to the Leftover Crack show after trying to flake out and then being bullied by my mother to take back his flaking and goddamn drive me to see some Leftover Crack) (it was hilarious).
This is how I remember Ezra, from back in my Leftover Crack days (this also parallels my headspace for, say, the last seven years):
This is how this interview has made me see Ezra now (and hopefully myself, at some point):
bullterrierlove:
A nice pear! (by scrawnsenior)
Why don't you just drop your cynicism and your paranoia and your defeat? You know, just because it's positive and good doesn't make it silly or trite.
wise words from Melissa Scully
I do, at least (even though I don't want to admit it)